Dear Diary
by bachiari
Summary: You find a diary, old and crinkled, that contains the tale of a King and his slave, and the obstacles they have to overcome to be together. AU Yuuram.
1. Wolfram, the Mysterious Writer

**Title: **Dear Diary  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own KKM and I am not getting profit from writing this. I still hope you enjoy though! ^^  
**Summary:** You find a diary, old and crinkled, that contains a tale of a King and his slave, and the obstacles they have to overcome to be together. AU Yuuram.  
**Author's Note: **So, I think this is one of the best stories I have ever written so I really do hope you enjoy. Because I loved writing this so much…I really hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it ^^ Warning though, the PoV's might be a tad strange…xD  
Also I am not sure if this should be rated T or M…so please tell me if T is too low for this story.  
I call Yuuri the King instead of the Maou because frankly, I think the King sounds better. Sorry if that bugs you.

* * *

bachiari

**Dear Diary Chapter 1: Wolfram, the Mysterious Writer.**

* * *

_You find a diary, the cover of it faded with time to a pale red and the pages crinkled and fat to signify the author's apparent love of writing in it. You wonder if you should really open it up – it is not yours and a diary is supposed to be private – but curiosity wins out and you open the diary to its first page. The spine makes a crack as you open it, and you open it a little slower, wary of how old the diary really is._

_A paper is taped to the diary's first page, apparently a letter to the owner of the Diary:_

_::::::_

Dear Wolfram,

There is no other way for me to say this except to be frank with you. You value boldness so I suppose it should be alright and I beg your forgiveness for what I am about to ask you. As I had said many times before, you are the best spy I have ever trained and it is only you I can trust this important task. As you must know, Shin Makoku has been stocking up on military essentials and we, as the rival kingdom, must figure out why. You are to be sent to Shin Makoku as a male sex slave to the King in hopes you may be able to discern the reason. Your only conditions are to _not _get attached to the King and to remain undetected. If you are detected, you are required to state your King had no knowledge of this and you were doing this on your own. It will only make matters worse if Shin Makoku thinks that we have tried to spy on them.

Good luck,

Your spymaster.

_::::::_

_The word sex is surrounded by faded out strikes of a pencil, as if the owner had put a strike though the word sex many times and then realized he really shouldn't have and had decided to erase the evidence._

_The notion of a sex slave makes you wonder again about how old the diary is. In your year, sex slaves are taboo and forbidden and the thought of the mighty Shin Makoku allowing this makes you think that this diary is really, really old._

_You turn the page, excited to find out more about this unknown diary._

_The next page's words are full of small, but legible writing as if the owner had taken painstaking care to shape each stroke with accurate precision._

_::::::_

**Day 1, 10:06 AM**

Dear Diary,

It's weird that I'm writing a diary. I never saw a reason to keep one before – as a spy, I knew that a diary was incriminating evidence that could be easily found – but it is my mission to keep one after all. Why else would my spymaster hand me a diary with an apologetic smile on his face? And you ask, why would I tape the instructions that were given to me in such an easy place to find? Perhaps I want to be found out; a country that sells me out as a sex slave to gather more information for them is a country I feel no loyalty for. Still, I am sure that my spymaster took no risks in this and the second I betray them, I will be stabbed to death by another agent. Gruesome, isn't it, Diary? The life of a spy. Even more so, the life of a sex slave.

Wish me luck; I'm meeting _His Majesty_ in a couple of hours.

Sincerely,  
Wolfram.

_::::::_

_You're sure that the emphasized words are meant as irony; the writer surely wouldn't feel any respect for the King who had accepted him as a present after all, even if he knew that the King had no choice in the matter._

_Wolfram intrigues you; his wit, bold words, and resigned tone make you feel for him and the hard fate he was served._

_You turn the page, immersing yourself in Wolfram's unique way of writing again. This time the page is full with angry strokes with no relation to the small, precise words that had taken up the page before._

___::::::_  


**Day 1, 10:42 PM**

Dear Diary,

The king is a WIMP. Of all the things I expected the fearsome King of Shin Makoku to be, he turned out to be a boy in his twenties with human blood coursing through his veins. How can his mere twenty years lived as a human ever compare to my eighty years full of mazoku intelligence? I suppose the comparison doesn't really matter for our relationship is master to slave, but the thought I have to curry favor with him makes my blood boil. The only good thing I heard tonight was that I am not to be sharing a room with the young King; instead, I will be rooming the room below him as respective to the status that I now currently hold. At least the advisors to the King know what they're talking about.

I have to go – there are footsteps outside my hall.

Wolfram.

_::::::_

_The ending is rushed and the page seems to be crinkled more in the right-hand corner, as if the owner was gripping it in his anger. _

_You waste no more time on thought, hastily turning the page to read the next entry. The words are written clumsily, as if by a shaking hand._

___::::::_  


**Day 1, 11:02 PM**

Dear Diary,

As you may see, I am flushed and a little worse from wear. It's not what you think though; thank Shinou my innocence is still attached. His Majesty…is kinder than I thought he would be. He told me – he was the footsteps I heard earlier – that he would wait three days for me to prepare myself for the event will inevitably happen. I called him a wimp, but he seemed unfazed by what I had said. He was nervous though, trembling even more than I was, and I could tell that he wanted the sex no more than I did. So I made a preposition to him, which he reluctantly agreed to. Every other night, the King will visit my room and stay for an hour or so. Neither of us will say a word to another soul about how these nights are spent and if anyone breathes a word about the King not sticking his dick where it really didn't belong, I will make enough sounds during these nighttime visits to convince anyone that the king and I were having the best sex of our life.

It is not the best proposition I have done, and I am still extremely surprised that the king would actually accept it, but for now, things are looking up.

These only reinforces my earlier claim that the king is a wimp though – and probably still a virgin - but still, his wimpy-ness has really helped me.

Happy for once,

Wolfram.

_::::::_

_The clumsy words contradict the confident tone the writer had tried to send out; obviously, the writer was as nervous as the King he was supposedly so superior over. The thought puts a smile on your face; you wonder what kind of relationship these two have and how the story will end._

_You turn the page again and this time, the writing has reverted back to its normal, precise and small writing. Apparently, Wolfram had calmed down from the excitement of coming to a new kingdom._

___::::::_  


_**Day 2, **_10:12 AM

Dear Diary,

I have just come back from eating breakfast with the King and a group of his close friends. It was awkward for me, but the people at the table did try to make me feel welcome. Greta, the King's adopted daughter, has taken a liking to me and followed me around for some of the morning, begging me to tell her more about the lands I came from. I told her all the good things and breathed not a word of the bad. Maybe I should have tried to ruin her innocence to get back at Shin Makoku, but I did not have the heart to ruin such an earnest expression. I wonder how she would feel if she knew she had been conversing with her father's sex slave.

Gwendel, though stern and disapproving, treated me as one would treat a student. By his words and expression, it seems as if he is looking forward to seeing what I am capable of. Still, I am not sure how much can be expected of one with a status similar to mine. His younger half-brother, Conrart, is much more open than he is. Still, I prefer Gwendel's expression to Conrart's; Conrart looks far too sentimental when he glances at me, and I have no idea why. Perhaps I remind him of someone?

Gunter is the only advisor I cannot stand. He is far too loud and seems far too fond of clutching onto the King without any reason. Not that I am jealous or anything – the King can have sex with _anyone_ he wants – but it is obvious the King dislikes it and is too much of a wimp to say so himself.

His majesty is the uncertain factor here. Although he seemed open enough last night, he wouldn't catch my eye at all during breakfast. Of course I didn't spend most of the breakfast trying to catch his eye, but still…the King did not try to speak to me at all. It was weird, but being included in his daily breakfast was rewarding enough. Perhaps I will find out more about the military weapons soon.

Sincerely,

Wolfram.

_::::::_

_You feel as if Wolfram had added the last statement in an attempt to remind himself what he was really there for. You are also puzzled by the way Wolfram is accepted into the King's daily life. Wasn't Wolfram supposed to be a sex slave?_

_The next page contains a diary entry from two days later; apparently, Wolfram had no time to write till then. You are intrigued, and quickly begin to read._

___::::::_  


**Day 4, 6:03 AM**

Dear Diary,

I am angry. I feel jealous, incompetent, and ugly as well. I shouldn't be feeling this way, but I am and I horribly suspect it is because of what had happened last night.

Just like the night prior, once the King and I were behind closed doors, he opened up and started telling me all about himself. I stayed quiet, and decided to let him talk, when he suddenly started mentioning a girl named Elizabeth in a reverent tone. I immediately perked up; this was information that could possibly be useful to my cause in the form of blackmail. It was blackmail-information alright, except it caused me to feel those disgusting emotions I mentioned earlier. And again, I must repeat, I should _not_ be feeling this way because these are all signs that I am starting to _feel_ for the prince. These feelings would only bring disaster.

So I swallowed my rage and listened to him talk about Elizabeth, who was apparently his manager – for the baseball team, which I have no clue what that means- back on Earth. I wrinkled my nose at this; the King was in love with a human? I stayed silent though, and soon the King was excusing himself with a happy-go-lucky grin on his face.

He didn't touch me once. Perhaps I don't compare to this Elizabeth character?

I am going to breakfast now, so I'll write later.

Wolfram.

_::::::_

_You are surprised that Wolfram has started having feelings for the King. You look at the letter shapes again, and you realize once again, that the writing is clumsy, and not precise. Wolfram was nervous while he wrote this, and not at all the same man who had written the precise letters the page before._

_You wonder again just who this Wolfram is. You haven't heard of the name before; you don't even know how he looks like for he had never described himself in his entries. Although he claimed to be a spy, his writing is upper-class and script that usually only the nobles knew. Then again, since you are no historian, you are no judge to say that this isn't the way the lower-class wrote._

_When you had wondered enough and came upon nothing, you turn the page. Instead of the same black letters lies a single picture. It is not framed and the edges are brown with time, but the inside shows clearly a young boy in his twenties, with black hair and black eyes. With a start, you realize that this must be the King, and when you glance down again, you catch the familiar writing of Wolfram's at the bottom. It is only one line: _His Majesty, the King.

_Wolfram doesn't explain how he came upon the picture, and you find you don't really care. You, instead of wasting time on thought, start examining the picture, looking for any signs of character that Wolfram could come to love._

_When you find none and when you bore of examining the same picture, you turn the page. This time, the page is full of black inked writing and the letter shapes are precise and small once again._

___::::::_  


**Day 4, 12:34 PM**

Dear Diary,

Breakfast was the usual activity. Gunter hugged the King, Greta asked me how I was doing, Gwendel gave me a stern look when I dripped a bit of soup down my chin, and Conrart stared at me during the whole breakfast. The King, of course, found it difficult to meet my eyes and determinedly kept his gaze elsewhere during the affair. Wimp.

But what happened after that was pretty unusual because for one, the King came up to me after breakfast – he was avoiding my eyes _still_ – and asked if I wanted to find out what baseball was. At first, the word didn't ring a bell but with a flash, I remembered that this was the baseball that his Elizabeth managed. Wondering if I would feel those ugly emotions again, I reluctantly agreed. For some reason, I found the brilliant smile he gave me after that was cute, even though I really _shouldn't_ have.

Baseball, it turns out, is a sport on Earth, in which one person runs around with a wooden bat – with no regard to personal safety I presume– and tries to hit a white ball that another person standing in the middle throws at him. Then after the hit, the person with the bat runs around in a diamond shape, making sure to tap the white bases placed at the corners of the diamond.

It seems to be a truly stupid game.

But it is important to the King. Perhaps that was why Elizabeth is so important to him – because she helps him manage whatever she has to manage about the stupid game.

Maybe, in hopes to gather more information about the weapons and not because I want to get closer to the King, I shall play this game with the King tomorrow.

Maybe.

Sincerely,

Wolfram.

_::::::_

_You smile at Wolfram's description of the sport. Based on his description, baseball truly did seem to be a stupid game. But you know different because you have played it in your last visit to Shin Makoku. _

_Speaking of which, you tear your eyes away from the black scrawl to glance at the phone in your hand. Without you realizing, a text had arrived at your phone; you had accidently put your phone on silent. You trade glances between your phone and the diary until you come to the conclusion that reading about Wolfram, no matter how interesting the story was, had to come second to eating dinner with Cheri. After all, you haven't seen your mother in forever, and you are sure she is worried sick about you._

_With a sigh, you place the diary back to where you found it, and gather up your belongings. You leave the room that the current King has given you, making sure to turn off the lights before you close the door._

_In the drawer, the diary waits for your return._

* * *

So, interested? It's a story within a story and both have interesting twists and turns that you hopefully cannot predict. It hopefully surprised you; the way I'm writing this…aha.

Please review and let me know if you like this. I'm not quite sure if I should continue this if people don't like it because the writing is…quite strange…although writing in 2nd PoV is super duper fun So please let me know if you like this style or the usual style I have! I really appreciate it.


	2. Wolfram, the Confused Writer

**ALVT**: Thank you for the review (: I hope there are more mysteries for you to ponder in this chapter.  
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**FioraLee Yue **: I loved your comment about the story being able to "drown" its readers. You have a very unique way of writing as well. I really do hope you continue reading this story and thank you so much for taking the time to review (:  
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**NatsumiMichiko **: I hope I do attract more readers! I want to thank you profusely for reviewing because you made me remember that I should really get started on chapter 2! So thank you. 3.

* * *

bachiari

**Dear Diary Chapter 2: Wolfram, the Confused Writer.**

* * *

_You wake with a groan, and you raise your hand to block the sun streaming in from the window. Who was the dolt who forgot to close the curtains? When you realize that the dolt was you, you groan again and slowly sit up. There are no clocks in your bedroom, so you grab your phone off the counter to check the time. You got back at eleven yesterday, because of the surprise party your mother threw, and it was now only seven a.m. You curse at the sun; why did the sun have to rise so early in the morning? You have nothing to do until the Sage decides to pick you up. He had announced yesterday that since you had been away from Shin Makoku for so long, you had to see all the new sights. You had rolled your eyes, but had reluctantly agreed. It did no one good to refuse the Sage something he wanted._

_You rule out the option of going back to sleep, because you usually can't fall back asleep after waking up. That's when you remember what you were doing yesterday, and that you were only five pages into the old diary you found. Your heart beats erratically as a grin makes a way onto your face, and you lean over to open the drawer in which you had placed the diary in only the night prior._

_The diary sits there, with its crinkled pages and torn cover, and you gently take the diary into your hands. You can't shake off the feeling that you are reading an old fiction book and the feeling widens your grin. You know that the author is probably real, but the things he describes are so farfetched you can't seem to wrap your mind around it. Sex slaves, baseball, a forbidden relationship, and spies; the combination seems to be the foundation of all good fiction. _

_You stroke the diary's cover almost fondly, and it seems as if your fingers remember the texture. You open the cover gently, being careful to not crack the spine, and flip through the first few pages. There was that letter, the diary entries blotted with black ink, and then the picture of the King of that time. Of course he was double black, and of course he was quite the looker. You turn to the last entry, in which the mysterious writer talks of trying baseball, and you skim through it quickly to refresh your memory. When your interest is once again piqued, you turn to the next entry._

_The writer has again taken painstaking care to shape his letters, and each letter seems to have its own correct place. You laugh a little at that; it seems as if the writer and you share the same habit while writing. Sobering up, you start to read the next entry.  
_

::::

**Day 5, 9:20 AM**

Dear Diary,

I really shouldn't be writing in you when I could easily be caught, but I'm bored, shameful to admit I know, and there is nothing else to do. I usually entertain the King's adopted daughter, Greta, in the mornings but she was called away by Anissana before very long. Apparently Greta hadn't done well in some of her studies, so Anissana wanted to help her catch up. That woman is fiery and aggressive, and it should come of no surprise that she has created most of Shin Makoku's weapons. I have tried to befriend her and get into her laboratory, but the woman seems to distrust me. Or rather, she would insist that I had more important stuff to do than to hang out with "little old her." When I pointed out that I had nothing else to do, she laughed and look at me with enigmatic eyes. I had no clue what she was suggesting, until she swiftly changed her glance to rest upon the King, who was chatting animatedly with Conrart. I, horrified by her implication, withdrew from her presence. The nerve of her! She, along with everyone else, seemed to think that I _enjoyed_ pleasing the King, and should spend most every waking moment trying to do so. After all, what else worth could I be?

So, in the fit of rage, I decided to spend the day outside and in the sun. It's a sunny day, Diary, and the sun's rays feel good with the slight breeze the wind has. I had no need to take my jacket, the blue long-sleeved one that I arrived in Shin Makoku in, and was instead residing comfortably in an outfit that Conrart had provided me. It was of a strange make, apparently it had come from some shop on Earth, but it was comfortable and fit my form rather snugly. It had no sleeves and this warranted the name "tank-top" which was hard enough to pronounce with my limited exposure to Earth words.

I should thank Conrart –

Conrart had just ridden by, Diary, so I'm sorry by the delay in my writing. I'm also sorry for shoving you so harshly beneath me; the King and the others should not know that I am able to write. Apparently Conrart had seen me leave the castle and had followed me out because he was "worried" about me. It's not like I knew any of their secrets, _yet_, so the worry was puzzling. I wasn't going to run away from a castle that was surrounded by a hostile environment; I wasn't blind and knew that the presence of a sex slave was of no great celebration in the villages.

He had stared at me rather strangely though, and after a few stilted attempts at conversation, he had ridden off.

Conrart still looks at me with strange eyes, and I have no clue why. I know they're not ones full of lust; I haven't seen any of those kind of eyes here in the castle despite my "profession." In fact, they don't treat me as a sex slave of any kind. Strange.

I have to go back up now, Diary. I'll write in you soon.

Wolfram.

::::

_You close your eyes after you finish the entry and you reminiscence of the time you spent in the outsides of the Blood Pledge Castle. You know what Wolfram is talking about when he mentions the warm sun's rays and the nice breezes; you have spent a lot of time in the same environment after all. You glance back at your cellphone to check the time and find that only a few minutes or so have passed. You had taken your time, and read each word carefully, but the time it took was still too short. You worry that you will finish the diary before your stay in Shin Makoku is up, and resolve to read only five entries today. While you don't want to spend the whole day cooped up reading, you also want to keep something for you to do while you are residing in your room. There is only so much effort you can put into being a social butterfly at all._

_With that thought, you turn the page and look at the next entry.  
_

::::

**Day 5, 7:39 PM**

Dear Diary,

I have been sentenced to stay inside my room. Nicely, of course, but I was still sentenced. Why? Because I had been walking to the library when I stumbled upon a meeting of the Gunter, Gwendal, and Conrart. They had been whispering quietly in Gunter's study room, and of course _that_ caught my interest. The three were close advisors of the King and all three had a high standing in the kingdom's affairs. I pressed my ear to the sturdy wooden door, careful to not make any noise, when I heard the first question. Of course it was asked by Gunter, the man who you could hear a mile away.

"Are you sure it is him?"

The question startled me and set my heart pumping; I sincerely hoped they weren't talking about me. How could they know that I had been ordered to come to them as a spy? I pressed closer to the door in hopes to hear the answer, and was greatly disappointed. Gwendal was the one to answer, and his voice was always quiet and stern, so I couldn't catch the answer.

"But," that was Conrart, and his voice was again laced with worry, "that…years ago…."

Then came a short speech from Gwendal, in which I could only catch the words "taken away" and "Cheri."

Who was Cheri? And what, or who, was taken away? And why would it have happened "years ago?" I slowly backed away from the door for it was obvious that this conversation was not about the weapons and because there was loud footsteps sounding from inside the room. I took three steps backward, and when Gwendal emerged, I looked to be simply heading past the door, and toward the library.

This seemed to fool him, but a bright red color entered his usually pale complexion. He asked me, sternly, if I had just arrived and I put on my best puzzled look and answered him respectfully that yes, I had just been walking by. When he seemed satisfied with my answer, he nodded and gestured for me to be on my way. That was when Gunter popped his head out and saw me standing there. He gave me a bright smile, and sternly suggested for me to go to my room after I had picked up my books. Apparently, it was almost time for the King to come visit me in my room. The suggestion colored my cheeks and I nodded once before hurriedly leaving their presence. That Gunter was of a lewd sort, because he had an expression of lust as he seemed to contemplate what Yuuri was going to be doing to me in an hour. Oh, how he would be disappointed if he knew Yuuri and I were going to be just talking!

I'm going to take a short nap before Yuuri comes, so I'll write later.

Sincerely,

Wolfram.

::::

_You are as puzzled as Wolfram was; what were the brothers talking about? You feel like you should be remembering something, but try as you might, nothing comes to the front of your mind. You rub your temples slowly with both hands, but the situation calls nothing up to mind. Your memory has been off lately but that's to be expected when you are as old as you are. A mazoku that has reached the three hundred age point usually loses most of his memory that has happened before that age. And you have reached that age point quite a while ago. Of course, you could still recall some stuff, but usually only emotions and not the person who had put them there. You remember light cool fingers on your forehead when you were sick and the joyful emotion you have felt throughout your one-hundred years, but that was all. You couldn't remember what exactly you were doing during that age. And apparently, no one else really remembered what had happened back then either. It had been far too long. _

_You sigh softly and turn your attention back toward the diary, fingering the pages almost fondly. You turn the page, and are greeted with angry slashing letters. _

::::

**Day 5, 11:26 PM**

Dear Diary,

Apparently the King had better things to do than visit me today. After following Gunter's directions by returning to my room, I took a nice nap. I intended it to be short, but since my body's not used to such soft beds, I ended up sleeping way past the time I intended to wake up. However, it didn't matter in the end, because the King never ended up visiting me. For some reason, I feel sort of lonely, and I don't understand why. I –

I'm going back to bed.

Sincerely,

Wolfram.

::::

_You smile indulgently at the way Wolfram had described his feelings. You can already tell the cliché romance that is going to happen and you can't help but to chuckle a little bit. Of course Wolfram would fall in love with the King, but was the King going to fall in love with him? You only hope that the story can turn out a little less cliché, but you enjoy the cliché parts as well, as ashamed as you are to admit._

_You turn the page, and the writing is once again its calm, perfect self.  
_

::::

**Day 6, 9:16 AM**

Dear Diary,

I was rash the other day. I didn't mean to sound so unsophisticated and shameful, but it came out that way anyway. Apparently, the King _did_ visit me yesterday. He, being the wimp he is, saw me sleeping and didn't want to wake me up. At least, that's what I _heard_. I had been reading in my room when the maids' loud whispering caught my attention. Without any consideration that I was studying in the room _right_ next to him and could hear them clear and loud, they started debating if the King and I had "done it" yet. Of course, I blushed furiously and tried my best to concentrate on my reading. I wouldn't allow the maids to know how flustered I was, after all. They didn't notice my embarrassment, and continued chattering away about every detail they had found out about our relationship. They even started betting! I'm sure they would have come to ask me for affirmation if I hadn't gotten up to close the door to my room. The last thing I heard though was that one of the maids had seen the King leaving my room last night. I didn't know if I could trust the information for sure yet, but the very idea that the King _had_ visited me last night made me forgive the King almost instantly. Even though there was really nothing to forgive in the first place because of course he wasn't _obligated_ to come visit me at night. However, the mere idea put a smile on my face, and made me feel less unwanted.

I –

I should really be getting a head start on figuring out some information,

Wolfram.

::::

_You shake your head at Wolfram's descriptions; Wolfram was getting too involved and forgetting his prior obligations. Though you figure that is a good thing in the long run, because it probably helped Shin Makoku win their battle against Wolfram's country. After all, Shin Makoku wouldn't still be standing if they had lost…right? You should really go brush up on your history._

_You're about to head on to the last entry, when a loud banging interrupts you. You startle, and nearly drop the book, before regaining your composure. With a soft sigh, you close the diary and through a series of quick movements, you stow the diary safely into the drawer. Soon, you are on your feet and heading toward your bedroom door. When you open it, the Sage is standing there with a quirky smile. He asks if you were sleeping and you answer that you had been up for awhile. You make sure to call him by his respectful title, "Geika," but he brushes it away and asks you to call you by his first name. You nod uneasily, and do just that and he laughs at your nervousness. He brushes his long black hair out of his face and gestures for you to come along for he had a whole day planned to show you the sights of Shin Makoku. You had slept in your dress clothes the night prior so you agree to leave the room. Soon, the two of you are heading out. _

_Thoughts of Wolfram are soon out of your mind._

* * *

A/N: Thank you everyone for such lovely reviews! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and if enough people review, I will (hopefully) put up the next chapter next week! Please continue to give me inspiration by your reviews and faves everyone! (:

Also, do you think I should make the Sage Murata or should I just make the Sage a different person altogether?


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